


magician's assistant

by scionofthelongproject



Series: counting countless chances [3]
Category: Constantine (TV), DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, God is a woman and she pegs, The things one does for the people she loves, includes masturbating in front of fifty plus men, mischievous post coitus hexing, platonic soulmates with benefits, they've got this figured out finally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 19:10:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18037178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scionofthelongproject/pseuds/scionofthelongproject
Summary: Look, it's not as if he hasn't been thinking about her that way.He just never expected or never wanted that wish fulfillment to be seen by a mass crowd.





	magician's assistant

How dare he. 

John grits his teeth, nearly breaking the cigarette he has in his mouth. Papa Midnite looks at him, smug with his deal. That isn't something he gets to propose, not with her, not ever even thinking of her-

“Okay,” Zatanna says. 

Both John and Midnite look at her in shock. “Zee, love, please don't feel you have to. It's just a bloody gauntlet.”

“Oh, I know what we're after, Peaches.” The pet name makes him scrunch his face up. “But I don't like smug pricks thinking that they can dare me like that and get away with it.”

Midnite smirks. “You think you can do it?”

“What, teach them how to please their lovers better?” Zatanna scoffs. “Don't make me laugh. And I sure as hell know you could do with a few pointers in general.”

Midnite shoots a dirty glare towards John, but he just shrugs. Zee's his best friend, and the only person willing to not only hear but jeer on his sexual deviancy; of course she's going to hear about the hatefucking they've had before. “Meet me back here at ten tonight, in something…” Midnite pauses to choose his word. “Fitting.”

Zatanna smiles sweetly. “Oh, trust me. Fitting is the most boring way to describe it.”

* * *

“Zee.”

She's washing her face as he comes into her bathroom. Boundaries aren't an issue, not when they know each other inside and out. She's down to just her panties and bra, ready to apply her makeup. Clary, their beautiful tattoo child of a rabbit, the representation of his love for her, is curled up on her shoulder, napping peacefully. “Yes, babes?” 

John sighs, leaning against the counter. “You don't have to do this. We can tell Midnite to get bent, it's just-” 

“A family heirloom with the mark of the Laughing Magician?” Zatanna pats her face dry with a towel before looking up at him. “It's important to me.”

John leans his head on her shoulder. “You're too good to me.”

She kisses the top of his head. “I know.”

“Am I allowed to help pick out your outfit?”

“Who else is gonna help me? Boston?” She taps his nose. “And you know what I look best in.”

He smiles, pulling her out into her bedroom. “That I do. Gonna make all those blokes drop dead as soon as they see you.” 

“Will you be there?” She asks, turning with her back towards him. 

With one hand, he undoes her bra, fishing in her lingerie drawer. “Why wouldn't I be? Have to protect my goddess from wandering hands.” She makes a miffed sound at his proclamation of her being a deity, and he pulls out a lacy green babydoll. “This is new.”

“Sebastian got it for me when we were seeing each other,” She groans out of slight regret. 

“Oh?” John grins. “And how did the spawn of amateur magic do?” He teases mostly; Sebastian Faust, despite being the tainted hatchling of one of the trashiest mages of all time, is a well enough lad, even if he was a bit airheaded.

Zatanna huffs, taking it out of his hands and throwing it in the trash. “When someone beats your oral game, I'll let you know.”

He can't help to grin wider as he rifles through the drawer more. “Anything that's open crotch in here?”

“Next drawer up.” Zatanna looks over her shoulder, grinning. “Sounds like someone else is wanting a show.”

“Pardon me, but the bar birds I shag don't intrigue me the way you do. And I hafta say, you've got a lovely cunt.” He pulls out a pair of dark red garters. “Yeah, these'll do too.” 

Zatanna laughs. “Never thought I'd be your dress up doll.”

_No, that was Nick's pleasure._

He can tell they're both thinking of simpler days, and he wraps his arms around her. “Things change, love. Sometimes for the better.”

She squeezes his arm. “Sometimes you surprise me, John Constantine.”

“Surprise myself quite a bit too often as well,” He replies before spying something hidden away. “Well, hello.” It's a backless lace bodysuit, with flowing sheer tulle hanging down like a skirt, a dark purple that is just her color. “What about this one?” 

She blushes. “That one?” 

“Fuck the garters and take your knickers off, I have a feeling about this one.” With a disbelieving smile, she listens, and as she puts it on, he can't help but to gaze over her curves and the way all of it covers her most intimate parts in such a teasing way, only to wrap around her folds and show them in the lightest tease. The tulle drapes down to her ankles, accentuating the creaminess of her skin and the round of her ass beautifully, and when he turns her around, it spins around her with grace. “Christ alive, I may have to abandon what tiny faith I ever had in the Creator.”

Zatanna rolls her eyes. “Like you ever had faith in the first place.”

John clicks his tongue. “Got me there.” He looks over her again, pressing her back into his chest. Their gazes meet in her mirror and he looks downright filthy compared to her perfection. “I hope you have some kind of deterrent in place so they don't leave their wives to follow you to the ends of the earth.”

“I've already got an idea. I'm not too worried, anyhow. I'm sure they're afraid of angering you.” 

“They should be,” He scoffs as he looks her over and again, trying to figure out what else she needs. “You need one of your black cloaks, make an entrance.” He buries his face into her neck. “You are such a visage. It's no wonder they've started cults for you.”

Zatanna caresses his cheek. “And I've destroyed those cults in one move, so don't think about doing it.”

“I'm just saying, we could steal all of Papa Midnite's followers. He won't see it coming. Well,” John pauses. “He'll see you coming.” 

Zatanna giggles, shoving him away. “Johnny, you're absolutely deplorable.”

“That's just the way you like me, though.” He takes her arm and spins her back to him, watching as the hem of the lingerie twirls again. Fuck, he's enraptured with it. “At least let me worship you.”

“If you must,” She sighs. 

John takes her arm, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “Blood sacrifice?” 

Zatanna smiles, coy and shy. “Stop.”

“I could take some land for you. We're due for another Crusade.”

“John.”

“Or sing songs of your feats, of your praises.”

“I do like to hear you sing,” She hums. 

John sits down, pulling her into his lap. “I'm writing a book about you, then. Your trials, your successes. I'll be your bard.”

“You slut around like one anyways,” She huffs. 

“Ooh, Zee, we could convert the House into a place of worship for you! I know Zachary will come, if only to get laid,” He tacks on. 

Zatanna laughs, cuddling into his hold. “And who else do you think will come?” 

John furrows. “Well, Cheryl already got herself stuck in one cult.”

She sighs with him. “Have you been able to talk to Gemma lately?”

“Yeah, she's doing good. Started first grade. Made a friend named Lily. She misses you,” John whispers. “Misses…”

Zatanna squeezes his hand. “I know. You don't have to say it. He was her favorite. She loved me, but she adored him.”

John hums, leaning his head against her shoulder. “Some days, I can get by. Other days, I feel like I'm drowning.”

Zatanna hushes him, brushing his hair back. “It'll be okay, my sun.”

“How do you do it, Starchaser?” John hides his face, pressing into her shoulder. “How do you move every day with such weight on your shoulders?” 

Zatanna hums at her Magi name. “Easy. I have you, my rabbit. As long as I have you by my side.” 

“Even with romance out of the way, you still want me?” His voice is muffled, weak and pathetic. 

“I will always want you, my love. You're worth every bit of my soul.” Zatanna laughs. “Silly boy, you're worth more than your dick.”

John laughs with her, lightened by her assurance. “I've been told it's pretty worth it, even called a blessing.”

Zatanna snorts as she gets up. “I know some that call it a curse.”

John grabs his chest, groaning. “You've wounded me, my goddess.”

Zatanna throws a pillow at him from her chaise. “You'll heal.”

John chases her up, scooping her into his arms. “Oh malevolent goddess, take pity on your humble servant,” He pleads with the spirit of a Shakespearean actor. 

“John!” She's laughing mirthfully, the way he loves to hear. “We have places to be.”

He grumbles as he sets her down. “Don't remind me. Go, finish putting on your warpaint. If your eyeliner can't cut them, I'll be very disappointed.” As he follows her into the bathroom, watching her ever so carefully apply her makeup, he thinks about the next couple of hours with a stormy look. Her hand touches his chest, bringing him back to shore, and he looks at her eyes, pleased with how dark and intimidating she looks. Her eyeliner is indeed looking sharp like a sword, and her lips are a sheer glittery black. “Anything else I can do to satisfy your worries?” 

“Just one.” He caresses her collarbone. “Stars, right here.” Her glamour shifts automatically, an entire galaxy weaving its way over her upper chest. 

She turns to look at the mirror, making a sound of interest. “Any reason?” 

“I need them to know without a doubt, they cannot touch you.” He meets her gaze darkly in the mirror. “The fact that Midnite even proposed this doesn't sit well in my stomach.”

She caresses down his cheek. “I'll be fine, I've got you by my side.”

John scoffs. “That shouldn't comfort you.”

Zatanna summons one of her asymmetrical cloaks to her, looking ever the dark sorceress, giving him a small smile. “But it does anyway.”

“Wait, I lied, one more thing.” She looks at him, confused until he pulls a simple amethyst circlet from her vanity table. He nestles it into her hair, sweeping her locks back to frame her face. “There,” He says, low and sweet. “Now you look fit to take an empire.”

* * *

She takes her steps with confidence. 

Not total confidence; she's never been in an orgy before, let alone masturbate in front of more than two men, and that was a committed relationship. Then again, this is more of a demonstration, a performance, rather than an orgy. John has his hand at the small of her back, and she can feel the frustration and possessiveness rolling off him in waves. It's not that he's still in love with her; she felt that dissipate within the first few months of breaking up with him, but he's still protective of his soulmate. She hadn't understood the idea of platonic soulmates until recently, and she's grown comfortable and content with the idea. They can still be close, still rely on each other and have each other's back until the end of time. They still care about each other as much as before, but without the messiness of being in a romantic relationship. 

Papa Midnite stands outside the building, smug smirk on his face. “You actually came.”

“I keep my word,” Zatanna retorts. She hasn't decided yet on what air to be; haughty queen or seductive succubus. 

He turns his attention to John, his smirk slipping. “And what is he doing here?”

“I got comp tickets,” John says before lighting his cigarette. 

Zatanna tilts her chin up. “If you want me to go in there, I need to feel safe, and the only way that's happening is if he comes with me.”

Midnite's eyes dart back and forth. “I thought you two were no longer…involved.”

“Isn't anything I haven't seen before, mate.” John takes a drag, rolling his eyes. 

“Do you want to see a Magi pleasure herself or not?” Zatanna lilts, and she smiles as Midnite takes a deep breath. “Sex magic has to be open and positive. So if I can't have that kind of environment-”

“Fine,” Midnite grits out. “The gutter rat can stay.” 

As Midnite opens the door, John leans towards Zatanna. “Gutter rat. Already a step up. I'll send you the wedding invitation in three weeks.”

She laughs, because that's exactly his goal; to make her comfortable enough to follow through with this. His cheeky grin is her light in the ever encroaching darkness. 

They walk through a long hallway before Midnite opens a door, waiting for them to pass through. At least fifty men stand along the edges of the room, their eyes fixed to the floor in a odd sense of reverence. The back wall is lit well, casting light on the bed resting against it. If she were to lay down, everyone in the room would be able to see her. A ritual circle is painted below the bed, partly covered by flowers and vines. It's rather endearing and honoring in a twisted way. She can feel the silence pregnant with anticipation, and without another thought, she shrugs off her cloak and hands it to John. “Hold this for me?” 

He winks. “I'll be your coat rack.”

The room gasps as a collective as she steps farther in, heels clicking against the ground as she strides over to the bed. The back of it is raised, and she gets comfortable as she lays on her stomach facing the room, keeping her legs closed. She doesn't want to ruin the surprise after all. It's just like a show, she tells herself, and with that thought, she gives everyone a dazzling grin. “And how are we doing tonight, gentlemen?” No one speaks and she huffs with a pout. “Come on, boys. I didn't come here to just be ignored.” She rolls onto her back, propping herself up on her hands and flipping her hair. A quick look at John's wicked smirk tells her she's drawing their eyes to her, ever the sexy pin up girl. “Pay attention to me, I'm fascinating.” When their heads snap up, she spins around to lean against the back of the bed, legs still together. “Now, I heard you boys want to learn how to pleasure your lovers better. Do you want me to teach you?”

She hears a murmuring of agreement. 

“Good, then listen very closely.” She trails her hand over her neck and collarbone. “First of all, throw all focus on yourself out the window. You cannot split your attention and give them ecstasy to the fullest at the same time.” Her hands meet to undo the tie for her straps and she drops them. The fabric still clings to her breasts, but only barely. “So listen to me, my pets, ignore your wants for now and I'll tell you how to meet their needs forever.” 

She pulls down the top, revealing her breasts fully. The room lets out a louder gasp, a more rewarding one than before. “You want it to be sensual, no matter the mood. Whether you plan to be sweet and soft or rutting into them like a beast possessed, keep it sensual. Keep them enthralled, keep their attention.” Her hands move down to cup her breasts, letting them fall and bounce to entice her audience further. “Your hands were meant to mold them, to please them, to tease them.” She uses one hand to caress down her stomach while plucking at her nipple with the other. “Explore them like they've never been mapped before. Each inch of skin is new land for you to uncover, to learn what magic it holds.”

She moves the tulle aside, spreading her legs to reveal her folds, enjoying the raised murmur of the group. “You'll want them glistening. Don't even think about touching them there until you can see their arousal dripping down their lips.” Her fingers dance around her clit, and she lets out a soft sigh. “Even then, don't shove yourself in like a brute. You want them to open themselves up to you. You want them begging to feel you all over, to feel you inside them until they don't know where they end and where you start.”

She can feel the magic staticing in the air as she feeds the spell. Exhibitionism has never been on her list, but she's feeling quite adored under all the attention. With no further warning, she slips a finger inside, letting out a small moan as she works herself up. “Tightness shouldn't be a worry, not if you get them aroused correctly. You want them warm and soft and the only time they should tighten up when they're in the throes of an orgasm. If they're tight, you're doing everything wrong.” 

She presses two more fingers in, and when her and John make eye contact, she grins at how his eyes are full of that lust she's so familiar with. No doubt they'll have to drop by a bar and find him a one night stand. “Keep your hands moving, you have two of them for a reason. Caress their face, play with their breasts, tease their clit.” 

Her fingers rub against her g-spot and she rolls her hips while her other hand thumbs her clit, whimpering ever so softly at the sensation. Liquid gushes from her, and the hushed surprise from the crowd only makes her squirt more; she can even hear the sound of Midnite murmuring, “Well now.”

The magic in the air is even heavier, caressing her like an invisible lover, rolling over her skin in an almost possessive state. “Make them come before you even enter them. Leave them sensitive, needing and pining for you.” She pounds her digits in for the last time, soaking the bed as she viciously smiles at the waves of a delightful orgasm. 

The room is silent for a few seconds before Midnite speaks up. “And?” 

“And what?” She asks, still floating from her high, only to be crashed down by the next words. 

“There's more to pleasure than foreplay.”

If she thought John looked murderous before, he looks like he's planning out the dig site of Midnite's corpse already. Zatanna takes a glance around the room, mood souring as she realizes they're waiting with bated breath for the next part. They didn't just come to see a Magi pleasure herself, they came to see one get fucked. The showgirl in her wants to please them, and she squeezes her eyes shut to keep the nausea in her stomach from spreading. 

“Any volunteers?” Papa Midnite asks. 

“Oh, sod off,” John growls, and she opens her eyes to see him throwing his cigarette on the ground before ripping his coat off and throwing it into Midnite's arms along with her cloak and his tie as he shoves off his shoes and socks. “None of these lowly mouthbreathers can even imagine pleasing her, much less you.” 

She takes a deep breath as John comes towards her, his face softening into a look of…regret? No, it's not so bitter, more apologetic than anything. They haven't had sex since they broke up, and she can tell they're both scared of even broaching that subject but it's too late to back out now; she can't leave the spell half complete, and the scowl he gives the room tells her that he'd rather not watch some stranger rut into her. In a way, she's glad she forced Midnite to give in-

_“I thought you two were no longer…involved.”_

She grits her teeth. This wasn't sprung onto her; Midnite very well planned for her to be debauched for the ritual. That's why he didn't want John coming. That manipulative son of a bitch-

John caresses down her neck, and she shivers as he hits all her erogenous spots. “Hey,” He whispers. “Open up for me.”

She nods and relaxes, knowing that he doesn't mean her legs. “I'm sorry,” She says in a broken hush. 

“Don't be, love.” He trails kisses down her neck, and it feels so different than before. It used to be soft and sweet and syrupy, but now it feels…sacred, a holy sacrament not meant for the eyes of mortals. “Let's show them what a woman in ecstasy really looks like, yeah?” He lays her back, rolling his sleeves up and undoing the first few buttons on his shirt like he's done a million times before; they both know how messy it gets when he's between her thighs and given the task of making sure she comes. She can't place the expression on his face as he nestles between her legs, pressing kisses to her thighs. He perks up, as if he's remembered something. “I know this was supposed to be a lesson,” John says, loud enough so the room hears him. “So I hope you prats can at least study with your eyes because she's not gonna be able to tell you anything in a couple of seconds.”

Zatanna wants to laugh at his boldness, but it comes out as a soft moan as he presses his lips against her folds with a softness. The feeling someone who actually knows what to do with her has eluded her for so long, and as his arms wrap around her thighs, spreading her wider, it hits her that she hasn't felt it since he last touched her. His tongue, that wicked silver tongue, grazes against her opening, and she hears him groan under his breath, “Fuck.” 

A breath is ripped out of her throat as he moves his attention to her clit, and she whimpers as more juices gush from her. She can feel his lips upturn into a smile as he laves at her clit, slow and gentle. It stokes the fire in her veins, making her want more, and for a moment, she just imagines grabbing his hair and grinding into his face like she used to. Instead, she settles on a breathy moan and rocks her hips up. The static in the air is back, magic surging harder than before. John moans against her clit and she feels what he feels a moment later, invisible hands caressing her like a lover from the magic. His hold on her thighs tightens and he licks at her faster and rougher, starved as he lets out a small growl. “Bloody hell, Zee.”

The room seems to be spin as he continues his assault, and she keens as he reaches up and tweaks a nipple. His neck and chest have to be drenched by now, and the thought just makes more of her essence leak out. His tongue prods at her core before he spears her, squelching and slurping audible throughout the room. It's always turned her on with how eager he is when it comes to devouring her, taking her apart piece by piece. Her hands fist his hair, and she quakes as she feels herself rolling closer to the edge. Her toes curl as he swirls his tongue around her clit, and she throws her head back as he slips two fingers inside of her. “Come for me, darling, let me feel you squirt all over me. Please drown me in your love.”

Her thighs squeeze his head as she sobs out a whimper, and it rolls into a high moan as everything finally uncoils. Her spasms feel like they last forever, and when she finally comes down from glancing at the pearly gates, he pulls back. He's absolutely drenched, proud grin on his face as he sits back on his heels. “Gorgeous,” He whispers. “What next, Ms. Zatara?” 

It sends a chill up to her spine, reminding her that while she is still in the viper's nest, she'll be kept safe in his arms or he'll die trying. The thought of riding him makes her whine; she needs security, not the opportunity to dominate him, she needs the safety. Alastair, Clary’s beautiful koi brother, swims up to meet Clary at her shoulder, and their meeting gives her courage. “Like this?” She asks, voice trembling still. “With you around me.”

“Of course, my love, of course.” John bends, kissing the brighter stars on her chest. “Must warn you, these blokes seem like they need to hear your voice.”

Zatanna nods, her hands unbuttoning his shirt as she tries not to overthink the next part of the ritual. “Why did I think it would end up any differently?” She asks with a mutter. 

“Because even I didn't think this was the plan, Zee.” John slips the shirt off, letting it fall to the ground, and she caresses over his tattoos, feeling the deeper meaning of each one. “You okay?” 

She's better than okay; every touch of his is drenched in reverence. If anything has changed within the last few months of them breaking up, it's that he's been treasuring her even more than before, and it's…perfect. While hating the idea of being a deity, lips snarling at the thought of being treated so dainty and never challenged, she does like the appreciation, the worship. Realizing she didn't answer his question, she nods before digging her heels into his ass. “Pleasure me like you mean it.”

“Yes, my stars.” His hands drift down to undo his zipper, pushing his pants and boxers down to free his stiffened cock and, in a move that she can only describe as being Constantine-ish, shoves them to the ground, leaving him completely bare. It's bold for him to be completely naked in front of a room full of part-time enemies, but it's also bold of her to assume he'd let that stop him from setting everyone on fire. Her eyes drift to take him in; he's actually a little more than skin and bones for once, and he meets her gaze as he presses against her opening. “You still with me, Zee?” 

“Always, my love,” She hums, stage persona falling back into play. “The care, asking at every point if they're still into it, it's integral to making sure that they come back for more,” She says to her enthralled audience. “And when they are ripe, desperate for your touch…” She wraps her hand around John's cock, drawing him forward, and he shudders as the tip spreads her open. “That's when you fulfill their wishes.”

She wants to be embarrassed by the way her cunt pulses around him in absolute greed, but damn if she hasn't had a nice dicking in a blue moon eclipse. He hisses, fingers digging into her skin from the feeling. His eyes seem to gloss over as soon as he's hilted, mouth dropping open in the slightest amount. She caresses down his cheek and he turns to kiss at her hand, teeth nipping at her pulse. It pulls a gasp from her, how he looks like he's seeking forgiveness for a lifetime of sins, and she's the only one who can absolve-

_Don't think of it like that, he'd slap your wrist for those words._

-Pardon him for his transgressions. 

_Why does he give me this look yet beg me not to save him?_

“No matter how you plan your course of action, whether it be soft or rough, draw your first thrust out. It's an imprint, a moment to utilize for making yourself stand out, so that when they remember you, it's with the memory of you making them feel like they're everything in the world.” 

John lets out a soft whimper at that, as if he agrees. She wonders if he thinks of her every now and again; of how she would soak him in her juices until she couldn't anymore; of how she would ride him while doing research, his hands tied back and mouth gagged in punishment for disrupting her studies; of how she would press her heel ever so gently on his neck as she upped the speed of the plug nestled in his ass. Maybe they don't work together in a romantic relationship, but a close relationship with sex? It's not entirely out of the realm of possibility; they're closer than best friends, bound by coven magic to look out after each other beyond even death. It's honestly comparable to slipping into an old hoodie, comforting and nostalgic. So what if it's indulgent? If he can stop himself from reattaching to her, they very well might have a chance at perfecting this. 

The withdrawal of his cock brings her back from far off thoughts, and she moans as he slides back in, filling her again. She can see the look on his face, brow knitted together to try to stifle any noise coming from him, but he can't stop the small rasps that sneak past his lips. He drags himself in and out of her at a dead slow pace, working her into a melting puddle of ecstasy. “You have to feel that they want you, that they crave every bit of friction that your movement brings. They'll be open, pliant to every touch.” Her word drops into a low moan as he catches her deep inside. The noise catches his attention, and John licks his lips before repeating his movement, a little faster and shakier this time. It's sending tiny tendrils of electricity through her system, and she moves her hips against him in a slow rhythm in effort to prolong it. “If they move against you, you're doing good, despite what you might think. They're eager, wanting to please you as you've pleased them.”

She cuts off into another moan, higher and breathier than before; the way he makes her coil up inside, tight and so very close to the tipping point, had been all but wiped from her memory until now. “And if they come, you try again. You keep wringing orgasms out of them until you can't possibly hold back at all.”

It only takes a forceful thrust to make everything come undone, and she slams her head back as the climax rips through her, leaving tiny sparks of rapture. Both of their groins are completely soaked, her juices covering them both. His thumb swipes over her clit as he bends down to whisper, “Do you want me to keep going, love?” 

She nods, pushing him back. “From behind?” 

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, but nonetheless helps her into the position, brushing his fingers all along her skin. She arches her back up as he slides back in, and he drapes himself along her to better cover her. “You feel so bloody good, love,” He moans, only for her to hear. She shudders at the sound of his pleasure, covers bunching underneath her hands as she clenches around him. His cock nudges against a deeper part of her and it draws out a needy moan from her. “Keep talking, Zee, they're on the edge of their seats just wanting to hear you.” John presses a quick kiss to the spot under her ear. “Can't lie, I need to hear it too.”

A quick breath is drawn as he grinds into her. “Variety is key to keeping them enticed and wanting more. Keep them on their toes-” She chokes on a breathy cry as he rubs his thumb over her clit. “-keep making them guess what you're going to do next until they don't even care anymore, until they're drunk on ecstasy and just wants whatever you will give them.”

“Zatanna,” He moans, high and needy in her ear. “God, you're driving me up the wall.”

She shivers, already close to the edge. With a firm rock of her hips, she whines. “Keep going. Even if I come, just please-”

John doesn't let her speak another word, snapping his hips into her like his life depends on it. Mewls and whimpers leak from her throat as he ravages her cunt, magic in the air sparking in front of her eyes. Their efforts are giving almost perfect results, but there's something missing-

She screams as he grinds against a spot deep inside of her, his breath ragged and deep as he fucks inside her like a devoted servant tending to his empress. Her walls spasm around him, and the only thing better than the high from that orgasm is the one he puts her into as he caresses her clit, making her into a sobbing mess as another orgasm teases itself deep inside her. Her arms fail her and the upper half of her body slumps against the bed. It only takes a few strokes to shove her into a free falling climax, and she feels his cock pulse, feels how cum splashes inside and coats her walls, feels how his breath stutters against her neck as he comes. 

They gather their breath together, and he pushes her hair back from her shoulder, kissing it. “‘m sorry,” He groans, and she knows he's referring to the seed that is slowly starting to roll out onto her thighs. 

“It's okay,” She breathes out, running a hand through his hair. 

John moves back, pulling her into his arms. She looks up, hoping for…something. Not a kiss, but something soft, something that makes it known that they're okay, that everything will be alright, that she won't lose him because of this. He seems to know what she needs, and he presses his lips to her forehead, soft and gentle and sweet. 

One of the men to the right raise their hand. “What if your partner has...different parts?”

Both Zatanna and John grin to each other. “Mind being on the receiving end in this demonstration?” She asks so only he hears her. 

“Oh, please do,” John purrs at the same volume. “Show Midnite how to properly fuck someone.”

 _“Eizlairetm no-parts dna ebul,”_ She says, smiling as a rather thick strap-on appears in her hand. “Big enough for you, size queen?”

“I suppose,” He sighs, as he switches her places. “Hands and knees?”

Zatanna shakes her head as she ties the strap-on around her groin. “I want to see your face.”

His brow raises in soft surprise but he lays down with his head at the end of the bed. He's so beautiful like this, hair messy and lips parted in anticipation. “If they have different parts, then it's just a slightly different approach. Lubricant is the key to making them pliant and pleasured. Patience is the other side of it, for the partners not used to it.” She spreads lube along John's entrance, smiling as he groans and presses against her. “Wait until they're begging to add anything farther.” 

She slides a finger into him, and John throws his head back. “Zee, more, please,” He whines and when she shoves the second digit in, he cries out as the tips of her fingers brush against his prostate. It's so fucking dirty how he looks as he rocks his hips against her, pupils blown wide and tongue lolled out; he looks like the sluttiest being in existence and she hasn't even put the strap-on in yet. She covers it in lube, stroking it as she stares into his lidded eyes. 

“You want them to be putty in your hands, pliable to every touch, so when you enter them…” She pulls her fingers out, only to push the head of the dildo in. His limbs seize up, broken moan coming out of his throat as she slides in. “They're desperate for you to fill them to the brim.”

And God, John is absolutely desperate for it. His hips twitch to try to feed more of the dildo into his ass, cock bouncing against his stomach as he hardens again from the stimulation. “Oh, bloody hell, please, Zatanna, more.” 

“Some want it slow, some want it fast. Lucky for us…” Zatanna wraps her hand around John's neck, enjoying the pathetic gasp that comes from his lips. “My assistant loves it fast.” 

She drills into him, watching as his hands scrunch up the sheets and loving the way he moans and screams. Her hand tightens around his neck, and the sound of it breaking off, the sight of his eyes rolling back, and especially the look of awe mixed with jealousy on Papa Midnite's face is all intoxicating. The fact that she can make him break like this, make him needy and yearning for her, is more addicting than she thought. She grinds up against him, and he convulses around her as the dildo hits his prostate. He's close, so close, but her eyes widen as she grins in such a wicked way, moving her hand from his neck to squeeze the base of his cock. “Come on, Johnny, show me how good you can orgasm.”

He's almost sobbing from it; he hasn't had a good fucking in awhile, it seems. They've both been without people who could manipulate them the way they need, the way they could only do to each other. “Zee,” He pleads. “Zatanna, please, my stars, I-” He stops, eyes widening as he shudders, cock straining as a dry orgasm rips through him. His lips part into a perfect ‘o’, keening cry ripping out of his throat. He's gorgeous, deserving a painting of himself in the Louvre, a fallen angel in absolute sin. 

She hums, slowly stroking him in time with her thrusts. “And you keep pushing them, keep giving them everything they want, until they are satisfied.”

John's eyes are watery, and he nods, mewls slipping from him. He wants it, he wants to feel like everything has been taken apart inside of him, the kind that makes him drooly and peachy inside, bones turned into jelly from how fucked out he is. It's something that she can see in his eyes, something that possesses him like a demon. 

She lets go of his cock, licking her lips as it throbs against his navel. With a vicious brutality, she pounds into him. “Go ahead, love. Paint that stomach for me. Make a mess of yourself.”

Every single muscle in him tenses, and he can't manage to say anything as he comes, splattering his stomach with cum as she wished. The magic in the air sparks loudly, and Zatanna waves her hand, spinning it around her arm. _“Eizlairetm elttob.”_

The small bottle that materializes in her hand sucks in the sex magic, and she corks it with a pleased hum. She looks around the room, slowly grinning to herself as she plots her chaotic revenge. _“Rof eht noitpecxe fo Nhoj Enitnatsnoc, yam lla fo uoy reven dnif esaeler litnu ruoy rentrap si deifsitas.”_

Magic floats to every single person with the exception of her mumbling Brit, and they all look around in confusion. “What did you do, Magi?” Midnite asks. 

“Just a thank you gift for your hospitality,” She says sweetly as she ties her top back up and waves the strap-on away. “But here is the magic you asked for.”

She meets him halfway, handing the bottle over. He inspects it, trying to look for a curse or a hex, but he nods when he finds it satisfactory and hands over their coats, John's shoes, and a bag. “And here is my end of the deal.”

 _“Grazie,”_ Zatanna says in appreciation. 

She turns back to see John at least dressed from the waist down, and he shuffles over with his shirt in hand. “Can we go, love?” He asks, the exhaustion and bliss evident in his voice. “I need to lay down somewhere where I don't feel like I'm going to get a kidney stolen.”

“Of course.” She wraps an arm around him, nodding to Midnite. “Until next time.”

Midnite nods, turning his attention back to the bottle he has in hand. Zatanna leads John out, enjoying the way he leans on her and buries his nose into her hair. He's not being handsy like he used to be post coitus, but it certainly feels better than it ever did when they were together. She opens a warehouse door, pulling them both in the House of Mysteries and into her room. 

John sits on her bed as she dresses down from her lingerie, choosing instead an old tee and cotton shorts to laze around in before wiping her makeup off. As she comes back in, some of the afterglow seems to have worn off, and John stares a hole into the rug in front of her dresser. “So how fucked are we, Zee?” He asks, quiet as if he's afraid of the answer. 

“It depends,” She replies. “How does this affect you? Because I know how I feel about it.”

He runs his hands through his hair, laughing humorlessly. “I want…I want to stay with you. Not romantically, I can't be in love with you with how much I worship you, but…” He shrugs, struggling to find words. “You know me better than anyone else does, and it's so convenient, so…”

“It's a pattern we know,” She offers to him as she sits next to him. 

John nods, turning to give her a half smile. “Just let me pay respects to my goddess once in awhile. It was honestly the best sex I've had in my life, even when we were together.”

Zatanna leans against his shoulder. “Is it bad that it felt more…right compared to before?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” He chuckles as he pulls her to lay with him. “I feel right holding you like this, laying next to you. I just don't have those feelings of romance, and it feels like they shouldn't be there.”

“I agree,” She replies. “So stay here with me. You're welcome to my bed anytime, welcome to my affection. Just don't bring your one night stands into it.”

“Jealous?” He teases. 

She scowls at him, hitting him with a pillow. “I like to keep my privacy somewhat, thank you very much.”

John laughs. “You just got fucked in front of an entire room full of people. Where's the privacy there?” 

Zatanna scoffs. “I did it to get something. Speaking of…” She leans off the bed, holding onto him for balance as she grabs the crushed velvet bag. “He's so dramatic,” She huffs. 

The gauntlet is made from iron, tough and protective. The mark of the Laughing Magician is imprinted on the inside of the forearm, and she watches as he skims his fingers over it. “Is it bad that I want to know everything?” John asks, vulnerable as he does so. “About my ancestors, I mean.”

“No, my love, it's not.” She puts it into his hands, kissing his temple. “Go put it away in the trunk so we can cuddle on my couch and watch something dumb.”

As he leaves, for just a second, she worries. What if he second guesses things in the time it takes for him to put it away? She gathers blankets and pillows, and the feeling of him pressing into her back as he wraps his arms around her is the ultimate comfort. “Thank you,” He says softly. 

She lays her arms over his. “Anything for you.” She turns, laying her hand on his cheek. “Whatever you need.”

“Well, right now,” John says, pulling her to the couch. “I need my platonic soulmate, cuddles under some blankets, and a good beer while we let our brains turn to mush.” Zatanna rolls her eyes, summoning his favorite label as she pulls the blankets over them. “Ah, you love me.”

She kisses his cheek as she settles herself between his legs and on his stomach, turning the television on. His heartbeat is a calming rhythm as she lays against his chest. “Always, love. Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you come away from this thinking it's romance, I failed.


End file.
